


Like...oh

by TheGIrlAnachronism



Series: Scerek Week 2015 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Day Five, Fluffy Ending, Future Fic, Future Friday, M/M, Mutual Pining, Scerek - Freeform, Scerek Week, Scerek Week 2015, but they're both idiots, derek's in love with scott, scott's in love with derek, that need to work on their communication skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGIrlAnachronism/pseuds/TheGIrlAnachronism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Scott's tried to pin down the exact moment when his feelings for Derek started to change. He's tried to go back and retroactively track the moments that led up to where he is now. To the moment he knew.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like...oh

Their hands brush as they both reach for the last egg roll at the same time. Derek's snatches his hand back like it's been burned, and Scott stares at him with wide, startled eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I'm fine,” Derek tersely replies, surging to his feet. “You take it. I need to…” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder towards the bathroom, and turns abruptly, striding across the room.

“Um…okay,” Scott says to the now empty room, taken aback. He contemplates the closed bathroom door for a moment, lips pursed and brow crinkled. He turns his head and glares at the crispy, golden-brown egg roll held between his fingers, as if it was to blame for all his life's problems. The usually intoxicating aroma of the exotic spices turns rancid in his nostrils, and suddenly Scott isn't so hungry anymore. He tosses the egg roll back into the take-out carton and rubs his grease smudged fingers on his jeans, falling back against the couch. He runs a hand through his hair, gripping a fistful of it.

_What the hell am I going to do?_

Scott had thought he had a handle on this. He thought he had been doing a good job of keeping his feelings under wraps. Apparently not if the slightest accidental touch sends Derek running from the room. He clenches his teeth and swallows down a growl of frustration—knowing Derek would hear if he let it out. He hates this. He hates that his obviously obvious feelings for Derek are impacting their friendship. That they're making Derek so uncomfortable he can barely stand to be near Scott. Scott has pretty much accepted the fact that Derek will never reciprocate his romantic feelings, and that's okay. It kind of sucks. But it's okay. As long as he can keep Derek in his life as a friend. As part of his Pack.

He's tried to ignore how he feels, tried to hide it—though clearly not very well. But Scott can't help it. Every time he even thinks of Derek his stomach fills with butterflies. And every time he sees Derek's face, well...the swarm goes so wild it's a wonder Scott doesn't float away. They've gotten so close over the last couple of years. Since, Stiles, Malia, Kira, Lydia, and recently Liam and Mason went off to their respective colleges. While Scott stayed in Beacon Hills and enrolled at BHU. He still sees them sometimes, and talks to them all every chance he gets.

Stiles and Malia aren't that far away up in Berkeley. They come home nearly every other weekend. But Kira's across the country at Columbia in New York and Lydia's all the way in France studying at The Sorbonne, so they come back far less frequently. Braeden still comes to town every now and then between jobs. She and Derek aren't romantically involved anymore but they're still good friends. More importantly she's still Pack. Scott still has his mom of course. He lives in the dorms now but he goes by the house almost daily. He usually brings her breakfast in the morning when she's just getting off the night shift, and they have dinner together whenever she has the evenings off. Sheriff Stilinski usually joins them on Sunday nights; Scott promised Stiles he'd look after his dad for him, make sure he wasn't on his own too much.

But a lot of the time it's just Scott and Derek. It started out because of werewolf stuff. They would get together—with Malia and Liam too when they were still in Beacon Hills—and run during the full moon and the two nights surrounding it. Sometimes afterward they would go to an all night diner, or get take-out and bring back to loft to veg out—always ravenous after shifting. After Stiles and Malia left, Scott found himself just dropping by the loft for no reason. Usually with food and a movie. Derek had seemed caught off guard by it at first, unsure how to react. But soon enough Scott would come over and find the loft door slid wide open and waiting for him by the time he made it up the stairs. Eventually Derek began to initiate their plans sometimes. Texting Scott, asking if he wanted to do something, or stopping by the campus and waiting for him after class. For about the last year now they've hung out at least three or four times a week, sometimes more.

Scott's tried to pin down the exact moment when his feelings for Derek started to change. He's tried to go back and retroactively track the moments that led up to where he is now. To the moment he knew. It had hit him out of no where. He and Derek were just sitting in the loft watching a movie—The Big Lebowski—when he heard Derek bark a laugh. It hadn't been the first time he'd heard Derek laugh, but something about made Scott look over. Looking at Derek's lit up face, his mouth open in a big smile, something just clicked. Like…oh. Sometimes Scott thinks maybe there has always been something there between him and Derek, lingering deep down inside. And being around each other so much has just brought those feelings closer to the surface. But he supposes it doesn't really matter when it happened. The facts remain the same. He's in love with Derek Hale. And Derek Hale isn't in love with him.

Scott's throat goes tight, burning. He blinks at the moisture stinging in his eyes, his mouth filling with the salty taste of tears.

_Shit._

Scott jumps to his feet and clears his throat.

“Hey, uh, I'm gonna go,” he calls out, thankful for the small mercy of his voice not wavering. “It's getting kinda late. I'll see you later.” He quickly crosses to the door and wrenches it open, ducking out of the loft without giving Derek a chance to reply.

 ~*~

Derek's eyes slip closed when he hears the rattle of the loft door slamming. He lets out a sigh and hangs his head.

_Fuck._

He grips tightly to the sides of the sink, skin squeaking against the marble surface.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Hale. You're going to ruin everything_.

Letting go of the sink, Derek reaches to twist on the taps. He cups both hands under the cold water and splashes it on his face. He looks at his soggy reflection in the mirror. Beads of water cling to his eyelashes, rolling down his cheeks. A drop slides down the slope of his nose and dangles on the tip of it before falling and splattering on the back of his hand.

He has to be stronger than this. He can't allow a silly crush to ruin  everything. Not now that he finally has what he's always been looking for; A place to belong. A Pack. A _family_. He grits his teeth, screwing his eyes shut tight again. It might be easier if it actually was just a crush. But he knows it's more than that. Love. Real, dangerous, unpredictable Love—yes with a capital L and everything.

He's tried ignoring it. But it just gets harder and harder the more time he and Scott spend together—and _'they'_ say _absence_ makes the heart grow fonder. Well, proximity seems to do a pretty good job of that as well. Derek sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, before staring himself in the eyes again. He doesn't want to lose Scott but maybe the best thing to do would be to take a break from each other. Take some time to get things sorted out. Maybe figure out a way to forget the fact that he's in love with Scott McCall.

~*~

More than a week goes by without Scott and Derek seeing each other. Longer than they've gone in months. They don't make contact with one another either—though there have been several almost calls and nearly sent text. It's late and there is a storm going on outside. The electricity has gone out. The only light in the loft is the soft glow of Derek's iPad and the intermittent flash of lightning that briefly bathes the loft in a purplish white light. Rain falls in heavy sheets, pinging against the windows and off the fire escape. Thunder rumbles off and on and Derek feels the vibrations of it in his bones. The sound of it almost covers the sound of the banging on the loft door. Almost.

Derek is on his feet, tossing his iPad on the couch, and striding across the room before he even has a chance to think about it. Derek can sense Scott's anxiety in his core, and he just _has to get the door open_. _Has to get to_ _Scott_.

“Scott,” Derek says, breathless from tension.

Scott stands in the hallway, wet clothes clinging to his body, hair plastered to his forehead, a puddle forming around his feet.

“What are you…?” Derek shakes his head and grabs Scott by the arm. “Get inside.” He ushers the sodden werewolf in, leading him to the bathroom and grabs some towels, shoves them at Scott. “Here. You should get out of those clothes. I'll get you something.”

“I-it's okay,” Scott mumbles, stuttering a little. Derek wonders if it's from the cold or something else. “I mean, it's not like I have to worry about catching Pneumonia or something, right.”

“Maybe not,” Derek concedes. “But I doubt it's very comfortable wearing freezing, sopping wet clothes.” Scott ducks his head and Derek sighs. “I'll be right back.”

Derek finds a pair of gray drawstring sweats and a black tank. They will probably hang a bit loose on Scott, but they'll do. When he carries them back to the bathroom he finds Scott's drenched clothes plopped on the floor and Scott with one of the towels wrapped around his waist, another over his neck. His chest and torso are bare, glistening with moisture. Derek falters at the sight, mouth falling open, no sound coming out.

“Sorry,” Scott murmurs. “I didn't know what to do with them.” He flits one hand towards his pile of wet clothes, the other holding the knot keeping the towel around waist.

Derek blinks, shaking himself. He clears his throat. “No, uh, it's fine.” He steps forward and holds the dry clothes out to Scott. “Here. Put these on.”

“Thanks,” Scott mumbles, taking the clothes with a polite twitch of his lips.

Derek nods. “I'll be in the living room whenever your done.” He quickly steps back out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.

Derek whips around when he hears the creak of the door opening a few minutes later. Scott plods into the living room, bare feet slapping against the floor, hands clutching his biceps as he hugs himself. Despite the darkness Derek can see him clearly—enhanced werewolf vision and all. The clothes are baggy like Derek thought they'd be; the sweats hanging low on Scott's hips even though the string is pulled as tight as it goes. The neckline of the tank swoops low, offering a nice view of the well defined lines of Scott's pectoral muscles.

“So,” Derek says, clearing his throat. “Do you want to tell me what's going on that made you come all the way over here in this weather? On your bike?”

Scott bites his lip, rubbing his right hand up and down his left arm. “I…” He stops and sighs, dropping his hands to his sides, fingers curling inward. “I can't do this any more, Derek,” he confesses, tone weary, frustrated. “I thought I could just ignore what was happening, hoped that it would just resolve itself in time, but that's not working. We have to talk about this. It's the only way we'll be able to move on and stay in each other's lives.”

Derek feels his stomach drop. He sucks in a breath. He'd been dreading this. He'd suspected that Scott might be aware of Derek's feelings, and now it's been confirmed. Derek closes his eyes and nods his head. “Okay,” he whispers, a mixture of relief and defeat. Because honestly as much as he fears what might happens next, keeping everything inside was killing him. He always felt like any moment he might explode. “You're right. We should talk about this.”  
  
“Oh.” Scott sounds a little surprised. “Right good.” He clears his throat and licks his lips. “So, I'm just gonna say it. I'm just gonna put it out there and then… it'll be out there.” He takes a deep breath, then blurts, “Derek, I'm in love with you. And I know that you don't feel the same way—and that's okay!” he rushes. “I need you to know that just because I have these feelings it doesn't mean that I expect anything from you. I don't want you feeling like you have to do anything just because you feel obligated. Because I'm your Alpha or whatever. Because I don't want that. Really. Despite how I feel I'm okay with us just being friends. More than okay actually. Like I would hate it more than anything if we weren't. But if your freaked out because of my feelings for you and want space, I understand. I just hope that someday we can put it behind us and get back to the way things were before. Okay?”

Derek stares at Scott, stunned, speechless.

“Derek?” Scott prods after a moment. His face crumples in something like agony. “Oh, god, please say something.”

“You…” Derek begins, dazed. “You're in love with me?” he asks slowly.

Scott closes his eyes, a sigh deflating his tense shoulders, and nods. “Yes,” he whispers.

Derek's mind spins. Scott's in love with him. Scott is _in love_ with him. _Scott's_ in love _with him_. Is this the _Twilight Zone_?

“Oh,” Derek utters, not knowing what else to say just then. He feels dizzy. _Scott's in love with him_. His heart feels like it might burst out of his chest and fly away.

Scott sighs again, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “Look, I know this has got to be weird for you. And I'm really sorry about that. But this doesn't have to—” Scott's words are cut off by a snort of laughter. His mouth drops open as he stares at Derek, bewildered. “Are you…You're laughing at me! I can't believe you!” he shouts, indignant. “I mean I expected you to be freaked out but you don't have a jerk about it!”

Derek shakes his head, trying to catch his breath. “No. No, Scott I'm not laughing at you,” Derek says. “Well, not just you. I'm laughing at both of us.

Scott's face scrunches in confusion. “What? Why?”

“Because we're idiots.” Derek sighs, smiling. “Scott, I've been in love with you for longer than I can even remember. Actually, I think I've always been a little bit in love with you. Ever since the first time I saw you in the woods that day looking for your inhaler.”

“What? I…” Scott shakes his head. “Hold on…Are you making fun of me?”

“No, Scott. I mean it,” Derek asserts. “I'm telling you that I am in love with you, too. God, you have no idea how much.”

Scott's eyes widen. “Oh.”  
  
Derek chuckles, rubbing a the stubble on his chin. “Yeah.”

Scott's lips split in a smile bright enough to light up the whole loft. Maybe the world. “I guess we are idiots, huh.”

“Yeah.” Derek nods, lips twitching. “Pretty much.”

“So…” Scott ventures, shuffling forward to bridge the gap between them. “Is it okay if I like…kiss you now?”

Derek's heart skips a beat. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I think that would be okay.”

So Scott does.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gah! I almost didn't get this one done it time. It was rushed and not checked over well so sorry for any mistakes. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments are awesome! ;)


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